


Santa Looked A Lot Like Daddy

by Shotgunpicksthemusic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 09:43:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2846513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shotgunpicksthemusic/pseuds/Shotgunpicksthemusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santa isn't supposed to kiss Papa, so why is he?  This calls for a plan of action...</p><p>Just a silly, fluffy, Winchester family fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santa Looked A Lot Like Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, Kudos, constructive criticism are awesome and will get you much love.

The murmur of voices downstairs was soothing, and he drifted in and out of sleep, right on the cusp of falling deeply under. A loud bark of laughter startled him and he jerked in bed, glaring at his door. Glancing to the side, he smiled at the sight of Sam, curled under the blankets, mouth slightly open, snoring softly.

He was very careful as he slid from bed. Sam was freakily sensitive and would come awake and bitch at him if he so much as coughed wrong. He sneaked across the room, tiptoeing, moving silently just as he'd been taught. He made it as far as the door, but it creaked when it opened, a timid squeal, but enough to wake Sam who sat up in bed, grumbling.

"What're you doing?" Sam blinked blearily at him, reaching up a hand to scrub at tired eyes.

"I heard something, downstairs. I'm gonna check."

"Me too, I'm coming!"

"No, stay here. I'll be right back."

"I don't want to be alone."

"Scared of the dark, Samantha?" The glare he got was epic, and possibly well deserved. He knew Sam hated being called Samantha, but he did it anyway. A privilege of being older.

He groaned softly as Sam scrambled from the bed, but he waited just the same. Together, they crept down the hallway, past the bathroom with it's softly glowing night light, past closed bedroom doors, pausing at the landing at the top of the stairs. He looked at Sam, motioning for quiet with a finger to the lips, and Sam gave him a look like he was stupid for even saying anything. With a dramatic eye roll, Sam pushed past, sneaking down the stairs.

"Wait for me," he whispered, moving quickly, but quietly, to join Sam.

"Hurry up, then."

He scowled and pushed past, once more leading the charge. The stairs were a long angle down, with a sturdy wooden railing that was currently decorated with thick greenery and red bows. Daddy had grumbled the entire time he'd put the decorations up, but he didn't really think Daddy was upset about it, because he'd also smiled.

He and Sam crouched in the middle of the stairs, peering through the pine boughs. The living room looked awesome and he was proud, because he'd helped decorate it. The tall tree twinkled with multicolored lights, reflected in bright ornaments. There was the wreath he had made when he was five out of construction paper hand prints and red pom pom berries, the popsicle stick reindeer Sam had made this year, lopsided and perfect with google eyes and pipe-cleaner antlers, glittery colored balls, pretend presents of glass that they weren't to touch, ever, and his favorites, Daddy's pool balls, tiny, glass ornaments that looked just like the ones Daddy played with. Silver tinsel caught the light and there was a rainbow paper chain they'd just finished this afternoon wrapped snugly around the tree. The mantle had stockings set on it, one for each of them, and had pine draping all over it. Paper snowflakes were pinned to the wall, covered in blue and silver glitter that Daddy complained got 'every damn where'. The whole room looked bright and colorful and Christmasy.

Papa stood next to the tree, laughing and smiling up at...

Santa!

It was Santa, here in their house!

He could hear Sam gasp, and he turned in shock, grinning. Sam was smiling widely too, and they both leaned forward, faces pressed between balusters.

Santa was smiling at Papa. Santa lifted his hand and brushed Papa's hair back off his forehead. He frowned, his elation dimming. That was something for Daddy to do, not Santa! He couldn't hold back his gasp when Santa leaned in, hand holding Papa's cheek, and kissed him! Right on the mouth!

Sam tugged frantically at his sleeve, but he was frozen in shock, worry, and anger. How could _Santa_ kiss _Papa_? How could Papa let him?

He let Sam pull him back up the stairs and into bed, but he couldn't sleep. He loved Santa as much as the next kid, but there was no way he was letting that man take Papa away from Daddy. No way at all.

~~*~~

"Dean, I know I heard something last night, " Cas said. He deftly flipped the french toast, twisting his head to give his husband a smile as he brushed past.

"They were asleep, weren't they?"

Cas simply gave him a dry look.

"He's just like you, Dean. You both are sneaky and far too good at getting into things you shouldn't get into. And Sammie is just as curious, and very easily led by her brother." He frowned. "Do you think they saw you?"

"If they did, they only saw Santa, and that's good, right?"

"Daddy!"

Dean grinned widely, swinging his daughter up in his arms, nuzzling at her neck and laughing at her squeals.

"How's my girl?"

"Daddy, you're scratchy!"

"You don't like the scratchy?" Dean rubbed his scruff against her cheek, pretending to nibble her hands when she pushed at him. "Papa likes it."

"Dean," Cas chided gently, putting a plate of steaming french toast on the table. He looked up as Bobby came in, somber and dragging his feet. He smiled at his son, frowning when he only got a weak smile in return. "Are you all right? You're not feeling sick, are you?"

"No, Papa, I'm okay." Bobby brushed his hand away with irritation. He still wasn't sure if he was upset with Papa or not. He hadn't pushed Santa away, after all.

"So, Christmas Eve! What will we do today?" Dean asked, settling Sam in her seat. "Want to go look at lights? Or go to the park and build a snowman?"

"Snowman!" Sam shouted, waving her arms around excitedly.

"You don't have to work?" Bobby asked, tilting his head at Dean, and Dean felt his lips curl up in a soft smile, because he'd definitely learned that from Cas.

"Not today, Bobby. I worked last night, remember?"

"Yeah, I know," Bobby grumbled, dropping his gaze to his plate and pushing his food around.

Bobby fell silent, watching his family. Papa and Daddy _seemed_ normal, touching each other, smiling, talking just like they always did. He chewed his lip, wondering if he really should worry about Santa. He only came once a year, right? His eyes widened as he realized that was tonight. Santa would be here tonight! He couldn't let Daddy find Papa kissing Santa again. That would be _awful_.

"Bobby, are you sure you're okay? You seem grumpy today." Dean glanced at Cas, seeing a matching worry in his eyes. Bobby was usually a bubbly, energetic kid. He was very subdued today.

"I'm okay. Can we go to the park?"

"Park it is!" Dean laughed as Sam clapped her hands happily.

Breakfast finished, kids bundled up warmly, and Papa and Daddy arguing over Daddy wearing a scarf and hat 'like a normal human for once, Dean, you're still a manly man', the family piled into Baby and were headed for the park. Bobby ran his hands along the cold window glass. He loved the car, loved the monster growl of the engine, the smell of leather. Maybe one day Daddy would let him drive it, or even give it to him. The park was a short drive from the house, barely enough time to get the car warm, and Daddy was grumbling when they got out about the cold.

Sam darted off right away, squealing and jumping in the snow. Bobby was slower, hanging back near Papa and Daddy. He glanced over at them, they were close, but not holding hands or anything. He was about to ask why when a snowball hit him in the chest with a whomp.

"Good arm, Sam!" Dean grinned at his daughter, his smile not dimming when she hit him with the next snowball. He bent down and gathered snow himself, side-eyeing Cas. He drew back, looking for all the world like he was aiming for Sam, but turned at the last moment and nailed Cas right in the side of the neck with the freezing sphere.

"That was a mistake," Cas growled, bending to gather his own arsenal. "Bobby, I believe we must teach your father and your sister a lesson."

Despite his worry, Bobby grinned and threw himself into the snowball fight.

Sam and Daddy were good, but Papa and he were better. Snow flew through the air and dribbled down coats, causing shivers and groans. Finally, Daddy claimed truce, shaking his head to dislodge the snow that clung to his hair. He scooped Sam up in his arms and joined Cas and Bobby. Bobby felt a bit better when Daddy leaned in, kissing Papa.

"Maybe it's time to go home and warm up?"

"Hmmmm. Is Sam still coming over?" Cas asked, taking Sammie from Dean.

"Yeah, in about," Dean glanced at his watch, "two hours. What say we go home and heat up some cocoa?"

"And watch a movie?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Sure, we can do that." Dean grinned and led his family to the car.

~~*~~

Bobby had a plan. When they got home, he went to work, grabbing drawing paper and, after looking up what he wanted online, very carefully drawing and coloring multiple pages of the plant he wanted. He cut out the mistletoe, climbing on a chair and taping one on each doorway. Daddy and Papa watched him work, sharing looks, but they didn't stop him. Satisfied, Bobby climbed down from the last doorway and put the chair back.

Every chance he got, he tried to get Daddy and Papa to get under the mistletoe together, but Daddy seemed determined to not be under the same time as Papa. He only laughed when Bobby scowled at him. When Uncle Sam came over, Bobby got a bit worried because the last thing he wanted was Uncle Sam to kiss Daddy or Papa. He gave the mistletoe up as a bad idea and sat down, wracking his brain.

Bobby loved Uncle Sam. He was nice and always talked to Bobby like he was big, never treated him like a baby. He curled up next to his uncle, debating his next move. Maybe he was worrying about nothing. Papa and Daddy never really kissed that much, or held hands where other people could see them. Daddy would look at Papa, and get this weird look on his face, and you just knew, even if you were only seven, that they loved each other. Yeah, he was freaking out over nothing. It was going to be all right.

He was quickly caught up in the excitement of the night. They played games, and Uncle Sam even picked him for his team on some of them. Papa made more cocoa, they had pizza for dinner (which Papa and Uncle Sam complained about, but Daddy just laughed at them), and pretty soon he'd forgotten about what he'd seen.

It all came rushing back when someone knocked on the door and Santa came in, his blue eyes twinkling, a wide smile on his face. Daddy rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, but Papa grinned and pulled Santa into a hug. Bobby's stomach clenched and twisted. This was all wrong.

He ran across the room to get Papa, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him away from Santa. Papa gave him a strange look, but Bobby didn't care.

"What's wrong?" Cas knelt down, pulling his son into a hug.

"I don't want you to be with Santa. I want you to be with Daddy," Bobby said, tears in his eyes.

"What brought this on? I love your Daddy."

"I saw you last night." Bobby wiped his tears away with an angry swipe of his hand. "He kissed you, Papa, and you didn't even stop him."

"Uh, that was from me," Dean said, joining in the conversation. He glanced at Cas, his mouth twitching as he tried not to laugh. "Santa uh, knew I had to work late last night, and gave Papa the kiss for me. Santa doesn't love Papa, I promise. Now how about you go give him a hug and tell him what you want him to bring tonight."

"Are you sure?" Bobby asked, suspiciously. He sniffed and swallowed hard. He was a big boy and he wasn't going to cry again, although he almost did from relief.

"Absolutely positive. There is nothing on this heaven or earth that could ever make me stop loving your Daddy," Cas said firmly. He waited until Bobby nodded and had run off before smacking Dean hard on the arm. "I told you I heard something," he hissed, shaking his head.

"Your fault for being so damn irresistible," Dean countered. "It does explain all the mistletoe."

"I like mistletoe," Cas said, leaning in for a kiss. "He's a wonderful artist."

Dean grinned and indulged his husband, nibbling at Cas's bottom lip. He pressed harder, wanting to deepen the kiss, but a not so subtle cough interrupted them both. He turned, smirking at the fake beard and obvious padding Balthazar was sporting.

"Yes, Santa? Anything we can do for you?"

Balthazar rolled his eyes at Dean's tone before replying, "You can tell me why your oldest just punched me in the stomach and told me to leave his Papa alone, no matter how many kisses he was supposed to pass on."

He sighed when Dean and Cas began to laugh, deciding if this is what getting married and having kids turned one into, he was definitely staying a single elf.

**Author's Note:**

> My [Tumblr](http://monkeyscomewithme.tumblr.com). Feel free to come pester me.
> 
> Thanks to all who read, comment, and kudo. Y'all rock!


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